


Some Water (To Put Out the Blow Torch)

by tamlane



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Community: hp_het_taboo, Daddy Kink, Drugged Sex, F/M, Going to Hell, Graphic Description, Name-Calling, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Rape, Schoolgirls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 11:15:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2107743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamlane/pseuds/tamlane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione Granger once dared to tell him no.  He wasn't going to give her daughter the same choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Water (To Put Out the Blow Torch)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ely_Baby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ely_Baby/gifts).



> **FIC WARNINGS: Explicit, extended, eroticized noncon scene from the aggressor's POV. Victim-drugging via mind-altering potion. Bondage. Oral and anal sex. Nonconsensual daddy kink. Age disparity (25+ years).**
> 
> Please take the warnings seriously. When I go dark, I apparently go quite dark indeed. Title from the Nirvana song "Polly". Written for [hp_het_taboo](http://hp-het-taboo.livejournal.com). And for [Ely_Baby](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ely_Baby), though she might be sorry she asked for it when she sees what I've done. (August 2014)

"Your parents will never let you out of the house in that," said the blonde.

Cormac's gaze slid appreciatively over her friend, a perky redhead who was preening in front of his three-way mirrors. He didn't know her name, but he knew who her parents were. And he suspected the blonde had a point, especially if the girl's mother was as much of a prude as she had been back in the day. 

"Well, duh," said the redhead. "I don't plan on _leaving_ the house in it, do I?" She nibbled at her plump lower lip and turned to view herself from the side, holding in her belly, which did not need holding in. Cormac nonetheless admired what the gesture did to her tits. "I don't know, though. What if there are fifty other naughty Gryffindor schoolgirls there?"

"The smart ones will be in green and silver," the blonde replied with a smirk.

"Bitch."

"Hello, ladies," Cormac said, taking that moment to step out from behind a rack of costumes just delivered from the cleaners. 

The redhead looked momentarily startled at being caught in a profanity, but she recovered quickly enough, apparently deciding it was the perfect moment to test the fit of the shirt by undoing yet another button. A red bra peeked out from behind the plackets; pert, gently rounded flesh strained its cups.

Dirty little tease. Cormac played it cool, avoiding the spectacle with some difficulty. "What's the occasion, if I may ask?"

"Costume party, genius," said the blonde, giving him a once over and wrinkling her nose. 

She was a bitch all right. So he wasn't in the prime shape of his youth. He'd softened a bit around the middle, but his brawn was still mostly muscle, and he still had all his hair. Not to mention twice the charm. And he didn't need snotty teenage girls looking at him like he was a pathetic old man.

"Ah," he replied, letting the insult go. "A private party?"

"No," said the redhead. "Costume night at The Bloodhound's Bite. You of all people should know about those events, shouldn't you?"

He let that go, too. Yeah, he was in the costume business, but business was good, seeing as he was the only establishment of his sort in Diagon Alley. He didn't need to keep track of every little teenage shindig. He let his eyes roam freely, scrutinizing her. "You old enough to get into that place, sweetheart?"

She shot him a glare over her shoulder. "I'm surprised you're young enough to know what it is."

"Easy." He smiled, pointing to a sign over the counter. "I don't rent costumes to minors without their parents' permission, is all."

"You let me worry about my parents, yeah?" She cocked her hip, giving him a wicked grin. "I'll take a grown man's opinion, though," she said, twirling one end of her loose red and gold necktie. "What do you think?"

Cormac licked his lips. He thought he'd like to bend her over his desk in the back and lift that too-short skirt and pound her teenage cunt until she begged for mercy. That's what he thought. "I think you'll be every grown man's fantasy," he said in his smoothest burr.

She predictably tittered.

"Just let me know if you need help, yeah?" he said, walking away with a last glance over his shoulder.

And that's how a divorced, middle-aged Cormac McLaggen found himself in The Bloodhound's Bite on a Thursday night, dressed in a Muggle suit and tie and perched inconspicuously on a barstool in the corner, nursing a whisky and watching a bunch of kids grind against each other.

He watched as Red and her buddies drank too many brightly colored drinks. He watched as her buddies got up to dance, and she remained seated, glancing at her watch every now and then. He watched her eyes dart to the door each time it opened. And by the time her friends were having a grand old time on the dance floor and Red was fuming, he saw his opening.

It was almost too easy, really.

He ordered two glasses of whisky and pulled a small bottle of clear liquid from his pocket. When the bartender turned away, he flicked a few drops in one of the drinks, pocketed the bottle, and swaggered towards Red's table.

She gave him a look as he approached, but she didn't say anything as he sat down across from her. She kept her arms crossed, studying the pub door like it had personally offended her.

"I hope you don't take this the wrong way," Cormac said, setting the drinks on the table, "but I couldn't help but notice from over there that you look like a lady who could use a whisky." He slid the dosed drink over to her with a smile.

She glanced briefly at the drink and at him, and then her eyes returned to the door. "No, thanks. I suppose I've had enough already."

"Ah. One of those kinds of nights, eh?"

She snorted. "You could say that." She finally turned and looked him in the eye. And immediately warmed. "Oh, it's you, is it? From the costume shoppe."

Cormac winked at her over the rim of his glass as he took a sip. "It's me," he agreed.

She put her crossed arms on the table and leaned forward, showing him plenty of that luscious cleavage, strategically framed by her loosely knotted red and gold necktie. "So tell me. Do I look like _your_ fantasy, then?"

He took another sip and set his glass down, one finger tracing the rim. Her hair was Weasley red, but she had a strong look of her mother about her face. He shifted in his chair when he envisioned shoving his cock into that smirking mouth. "Close enough," he replied.

She took a cherry from an empty glass at her elbow and sucked it between her lips with a smile. Oh yeah, she was a dirty tease, all right. Cormac knew her type well. She'd been blown off by her boyfriend, and she would flirt with him all night to make herself feel better. But when push came to shove, she'd leave him high and dry. 

He'd learned a few tricks since Hogwarts, though. 

"You know, to the Scots," he said casually, "whisky is life. Literally. We call it _uisge beatha_." He put the full force of his native burr into the three syllables — _OOSH-ga bah_ — and watched in satisfaction as it had the intended effect on her. "Water of life." He swirled it in his glass and smiled. "My mum could throw back some whisky, rest her soul. Nobody can drink like a Scotswoman."

Her brown eyes flashed. "Oh yeah? We do just fine in Berkshire, thank you very much."

"That so?" he retorted with a chuckle and another sip.

Without blinking an eye, she grabbed her own glass off the table and threw back the shot in a single gulp. He could see her struggling not to wince. "What do you think of that?"

He waited, watching her eyes. It only took a few seconds for the tell-tale glaze to appear. A moment later, her brow smoothed, and her mouth softened into a docile half-smile.

_Imperius in a Bottle_ they called it. Truly magical stuff.

Cormac clinked his glass to her empty one. "I think you look like you feel better already."

***

"Thatta girl, this way," Cormac said, steering her towards the alley. His cock had gone rock hard the moment her eyes glazed over. He couldn't wait to get her home and put her to work on it.

She stumbled over a paving stone. 

"Careful, sweetheart," he said, wrapping his arm around her tiny waist. The potion wasn't supposed to cause clumsiness, but the whisky might have. "Now hang on to me, there's a good girl. We'll be home in the blink of an eye."

Her little fingers grasped him by the arm, and a few very unpleasant moments later, they were standing inside his one-bedroom flat. It was cramped, the carpet worn and the furniture dated. It was all Cormac had been able to afford after his third wife wiped him clean, but it didn't matter tonight. 

Tonight there would be no disapproving looks from his date.

In fact, she didn't even look around when they arrived. She just stood there staring placidly up at him, ready for any instruction he might wish to give her. He had to take a deep breath and remind himself he had all night. There was no rush, none at all.

"Here we are," Cormac said, tapping her on the nose. "Now you just stand right there while Daddy goes and gets himself another drink, okay?"

"Daddy?" she repeated.

The word was a frisson of fire down his spine. "That's right, honey." He tossed his jacket onto the sofa and went to the kitchen bar to pour himself a tumbler of whisky. "Tonight, I'm going to be your daddy, okay?" 

"Okay," she replied simply.

Cormac stepped towards her, greedily devouring her with his eyes. No, she wasn't her mother, but she was close enough. "Mmm, and you're going to be a very good girl for Daddy tonight, aren't you?"

"Uh-huh."

"Of course you are." He crooked his finger at her. "Come here, sweetheart. Come stand right here in front of me."

She moved as though in a dream, glassy eyes trained on his finger.

"That's good. Now tell me, do you know why Daddy brought you back here?"

"No."

Cormac's cock twitched. God, this potion was top notch. He was going to have so much fun with this little tramp. "You're here to make Daddy feel good." He ran the pad of his thumb over her plump bottom lip, tugging at it. "And you know what I want you to do first?"

"What?"

"I want you to turn around." He hummed as she obeyed. "Yes, that's good, nice and slow. That's it." He took a step back. "Now bend over… more, more, little more… good." He reached up and undid his necktie, letting it hang loosely from his collar. He took a sip of whisky and gritted his teeth over the burn. "Now grab your ankles for Daddy."

The girl's bushy pigtails brushed the rug, and her skirt rode up in the back. Cormac bit back a moan as the barest hint of the swell of her arse came into view. He reached out as though he were opening a present and flipped her short skirt up over her backside.

And bit his fist.

God, she was perfect, perfect. She'd nailed the costume, right down to the plain white cotton briefs that he imagined her mother had worn back in the day, maybe still wore. But he bet her mother didn't have an arse like that nowadays.

Overcome with the sudden, unbearable desire to ruin her in some small way, Cormac hooked his finger in the waistband of her knickers and jerked hard, wedging the fabric in the crack of her arse. 

"Oh!" she gasped. "That feels weird."

He smirked, tugging until he was satisfied that the fabric was chafing her delicate arsehole and lodged firmly between the lips of her cunt. “But it looks so very good," he purred. He grabbed one of those tempting globes and squeezed. It was his, all his, and god, she was tiny. His hand dwarfed her arse cheek, his darker skin a striking contrast to the pale flesh. "You've got a gorgeous arse, sweetheart." It was more comment than compliment. "Gorgeous."

And he was going to tear it up before the night was through.

He tucked the hem of her skirt into the waistband so that it left her arse exposed. The knickers were starting to slip free of her crack, so he gave them another sharp tug for good measure.

"That's good, stay just like that," he said, backing away. "Don't move a muscle."

The back of Cormac's knees hit his easy chair, and he sat down, untucking his shirt and working the buttons free. He took another sip of his whisky and admired the view in front of him. Hermione Granger's daughter, bent in half in his living room like a whore, hands around her ankles, knickers lodged up her arse. Her face was bright red between her legs from the blood rushing to her head. A bit of spittle dripped from her mouth, forming a trail down her cheek, like a teardrop moving in reverse.

His cock already felt like it was going to explode. He had to give it some room, so he unfastened his trousers and gave himself a single squeeze. The front of his pants was spotted with precome.

As much as Cormac loved those schoolgirl clothes, though, he couldn’t wait to get her out of some of them. He took another sip of whisky and licked his lips. "Such a good girl," he said, his voice husky now from lust and liquor. "Now stand up." She stumbled at first but caught her balance quickly. "That's it. Turn back around."

"Good girl," he said, sinking down in his chair and getting comfortable. "Now how 'bout you show Daddy your tits, hmm?"

Cormac swirled his drink in his glass as she obediently unknotted her Gryffindor tie and started on her buttons. "Don't take the shirttail all the way out," he guided her. "Just pull the plackets aside for me, and – ah, there you go, look at that."

Tonight she wore a cute white lace bra, her pink nipples visible beneath the see-through fabric. She had such fantastic tits. Full for her age, but not too big, and they sat high and round on her slim torso. 

Cormac couldn't hold back. He slipped his hand into his pants and pulled out his cock, slowly stroking it at the sight in front of him.

"Now pull your bra cups down, right down over those tits. Ah yes, that's perfect, doll." She pushed the cups under her tits, forcing them even higher into the air. "Pinch those nipples for Daddy. That's it, make them nice and hard. You like that?"

"Mm-hmm."

"I bet you do, you dirty girl." He took one last sip of whisky and set the glass down on the table by the chair. "Now," he said, his heart thumping in his ears, his cock like hot iron in his grip, "I want you to get down on your hands and knees on the floor. Oh yes." She looked up at him from the floor like an eager Kneazle. "Now crawl," he commanded breathlessly. "Crawl over here to me."

When she obeyed, Cormac had to stop stroking himself momentarily for fear of coming. Her tits swayed beneath her open shirt as she crawled, her skirt and knickers a tangled mess at her waist. "Sexy little kitten," he hissed through his teeth. "Come here, come here. Kneel in front of me."

He was sitting there with his cock out, swollen and angry as a spitting serpent, but she looked straight past it and into his eyes, as though he were a god. He curled one hand over her shoulder and sat up, sliding closer to the edge of the chair. 

"Do you know what I want you to do now, sweetheart?"

She shook her head, eyes glazed.

Cormac pulled her closer by the shoulder. "I want you to lick Daddy's cock," he said, voice strained with lust. He wrapped his fingers around the base of the shaft, holding it straight up from his lap for her, the purplish bulbous head pointed at her mouth. "Just like a lollipop. Do you like lollipops?"

"Mm-hmm."

He twined his thick fingers into one of her pigtails. "Then you'll love this. Stick out your tongue." She stuck it out, her eyes trained right on his, and Cormac could have sworn his cock dripped precome at the sight. "Now lick it," he demanded. She reached up with one hand. "No, no, sweetheart," he said, "no hands. Daddy will hold your lollipop for you. You just lick it."

He watched, breathless, as her pink tongue lapped at him like a dripping ice cream cone. "Oh god yes, all over it, all over." Using his hold on her hair, he guided her mouth all around his cock, that little tongue diligently licking every ridge and vein of his bulging cock.

"Oh fuck, honey, put it in your mouth now," Cormac gasped, shoving the head between her lips. "There you go. Now suck on it."

Her cheeks hollowed, the suction exquisite. Cormac threw back his head and groaned at the feeling. "Bob your head," he gritted out, "up and down." She did, and he helped her. When she started to gag, he felt his cock get impossibly harder. He looked down, mesmerized by the sight of his shaft sliding between her lips. Tears began pooling in her eyes, but she kept right on going, staring up at him like her life depended on giving him the best blow job ever.

"Bloody hell, look at you go," Cormac panted. "What a good girl. You're making Daddy feel very good, very good indeed. You just keep doing that right there."

He let go of his cock and wound both of her pigtails in his fists, using them like handlebars. He could actually see her throat bulge on each thrust. He didn’t know whether her gag reflex was weak or if the potion was just that powerful, but she took it tirelessly, even as a few tears slid down her cheeks, trailing her eye makeup with them.

He used her mouth. Oh, how he used her mouth, for how long he didn't even know. He used her mouth and her throat until drool coated her exposed tits and streamed from her slack jaw. Cormac used her mouth as long as he could, until his balls started tightening, threatening to explode. And then, with a muffled curse, he pulled her off his cock at last.

She choked and sputtered as though she'd been holding her breath the entire time. Cormac rubbed some drool around on her cheek with his thumb. "You all right, sweetheart?" he asked with a smirk. A rhetorical question, of course.

She squinted as though she was trying to remember how to speak. Then, in a raspy voice, she whispered, "My jaw hurts, Daddy."

"Does it, sweetheart?" he asked with a pout, wiping soaked tendrils of hair out of her face. "Then we'd better find something else for you to do to make Daddy feel good, hadn't we?"

"Like what?"

Cormac licked his lips. "Oh, I'm sure we'll come up with something fun. For now, why don't you take Daddy's shoes off for him?" No reason to do it himself, he thought, when he had a willing slave at his feet. 

She slowly unlaced and removed them. He rolled up his shirtsleeves and emptied his trousers pockets while she worked. The last thing he removed was the small potion bottle, which he set on the side table beside his abandoned whisky.

"Good. Now help Daddy out of his trousers and pants." He lifted up his hips to allow her to drag them off, relishing the thought that she was undressing him in preparation for her own violation. And he planned to violate her most thoroughly.

"Now stand up," he said, when he was left in nothing but his socks and open shirt. "Thatta girl. Take off your shirt and your bra." He pumped his cock as she obeyed. 

Once she was free of the garments, Cormac's lust overtook him again, and he shot from the chair, groaning. He roughly grabbed handfuls of her tits, squeezing them together. He bent down and sucked ravenously at one of them, fitting as much as he could in his mouth, snarling and biting at it as he yanked at her other nipple with his fingers. He grinned around the flesh when she cried out.

He didn't stop until her pretty tits were covered in marks, and then he grabbed her head between his hands and devoured her mouth. He plunged his tongue between her lips and pumped it lewdly. His hands dropped to her arse, yanking her up against him so he could rut against her belly as well. He couldn't wait to get his cock inside her, to fuck her, pound her, make her feel him on the inside for weeks to come...

He tore himself away from her mouth, panting in her ear. "You want to go see Daddy's bedroom?"

"Okay," she answered dully.

"Okay," he mocked her. He grabbed her by the waistband of her skirt and pulled her along behind him like a Krup on a leash. "Get up on the bed," he said when they reached his room. "And take those pretty little knickers off. Just the knickers. Leave the skirt and the socks and shoes."

As she obeyed, Cormac moved to the bedside table and pulled out the necessary items. "Uh-huh," he said appreciatively when she held her knickers up. "Throw them aside and lie down on your tummy. Stretch out your arms."

He could have used spells for this, sure, but he loved rope. He loved the way it looked, knotted around a woman's wrists, the marks it left. He got onto the bed, straddling her small frame, and made quick work of knotting a length around both posts at the headboard. 

As he started attaching them to her wrists, she spoke. Her voice was meek, trembling, as she said, "Daddy, I don't…"

"You don't what, sweetheart?" 

"I don't know if I want to do this," she whimpered pathetically.

"It'll be all right, honey," Cormac lied in a gentle voice. "Daddy's going to take real good care of you. He just wants to make sure you can hold nice and still for him so he can make you feel good. Okay?"

"I… I guess so…"

"Good girl." The truth of the matter was the potion didn't last indefinitely. And if she started to come back to herself… well, it was best if her hands weren't free when that happened. 

When he was satisfied with the knots, Cormac moved to the foot of the bed and sat back on his haunches, admiring his work. "Oh yeah," he whispered. "Can you get up on your knees for Daddy and put that pretty arse in the air?"

"Like this?" She kept her face in the pillow and rose up on her knees. Her legs were together, but he could see the puffy bulge of her cunt lips between them, and her arse… god, it was round as a little peach, the dark cleft teasing him with what lay within.

"Oh yeah, sweetheart," Cormac groaned, dragging his palm over his sweaty face. "Just like that. Hold it right there. Daddy's going to get his special lotion."

It was really just plain, everyday lube that he grabbed from the bedside table, more for him than for her. It wasn't going to be wet where he was going, and he didn't fancy losing skin off his prick from the friction. He unscrewed the jar and set it beside them on the bed.

"There we go," he said, settling himself behind her. "Now spread your knees apart and let Daddy have a look at those little holes."

She obeyed, and Cormac ran his thumbs over the sides of her cleft, slowly parting her cheeks. She had a lovely cunt framed by ginger hair, but he ignored it for the most part in favor of the tiny brown pucker above it. He bit into his bottom lip when it tightened under his gaze. He wondered if she'd ever been fucked there. Didn't really matter, he thought. Nothing could have prepared her arse for what he was going to unleash on it.

He dipped his forefinger in the lube, scooping up a small dollop. When he smeared it over her arsehole, she gasped.

"Daddy… what… what are you doing?"

Rather than answering, he massaged the pursed entrance with the pad of his finger, greasing it up in small circles.

"Oh!" she sighed.

Cormac smirked. It didn't matter how women protested. Touch their arseholes in just the right way, and they made all kinds of interesting sounds. "You like that?" he purred.

"It's… it's weird."

"Hmm." He gently pumped the tip of his finger in and out, watching her sphincter clamp down on the invading digit. It was incredibly tight, and he felt his cock drip in response. Slowly, he pushed that finger all the way in.

"Oh god!" she cried out, though she didn't seem to be in pain. Yet.

He chuckled lightly. "Still feel weird?"

"No, Daddy," she answered breathlessly. "It feels… it feels kind of good."

Licking his lips, Cormac started to pump faster. He only used the one finger, though. He wanted to relax the sphincter, but he didn't want her so loosened up that she didn't give him a good, tight squeeze. Before long, she was bucking back against his finger, her poor, neglected cunt glistening beneath.

"All right, sweetheart," he said at last, removing his finger. He scooped a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and coated his cock with it, moaning at the sensation. He was sure he had never been so big, so hard. "Stay up on those knees for Daddy, and keep that back arched." He aimed his angry cockhead at his target, biting his lip over how it dwarfed her little hole. It was going to be a tight fit. "I think you're going to like this even better," he lied. 

He started to press mercilessly against that stubborn ring.

She tensed. "Oh no, Daddy, I don't want to do that."

"Oh yes, I think you do," Cormac said in a soothing voice, pushing, pushing. She was too tense. He was going to have to force it.

"No. No, I don't think I want to…"

"Now, now. Be a good girl," he panted. He pressed harder, and the head popped inside. He growled in pleasure at the same time she cried out in pain.

"No, no, Daddy, it hurts!"

Cormac's eyes rolled back in his head. "Hang on for Daddy," he gritted out, pumping his way inside in small increments, each one sending shocks of pleasure up his spine and down his thighs. It was so good, so good. "It won’t hurt for long, honey, I promise." Mostly because he wasn’t going to last long, he could tell.

"No, Daddy, please stop." Her body was shaking. "Please, it hurts so bad…"

Spurred on by her pleas, Cormac buried himself to the hilt with a final, brutal snap of his hips. He grunted and started thrusting with all his might, unable to hold back. "Oh, I’m afraid Daddy's not going to stop now, Hermione." He grabbed her arse cheeks, spreading them apart as far as they would go and watching in uncontained lust as he impaled her arse with his violently hard cock. He growled, picking up the pace. "Daddy's definitely not going to stop now, you dirty little girl. Oh fuck."

She was sobbing into the pillow now. "No, Daddy, please don't, please don't…"

He'd barely gotten started, and he felt like he was going to explode. "Easy, easy," he said, more to himself than to her. He withdrew his cock momentarily and stroked it, trying to get himself under control. Her arsehole was already gaping from his girth. The sight was too heady. With a roar, he shoved right back in, ripping fresh cries from her young body. 

It was all too much. Cormac abandoned himself to it. "Oh Hermione, oh that's it," he grunted, pounding into that hot, tight hole for all he was worth. "Take Daddy's cock," he hissed through his teeth, "oh fuck, take it, you prissy little bitch, take it, _argh!_ " He roared out his release, his neck snapping back as his balls emptied, his cock pumping load after load of hot spunk deep into her abused bowels. His fingers dug craters in her hips as he yanked her back into every spasm. It went on and on.

With a last weak thrust, he stilled inside her, his whole body going boneless. He collapsed on top of her. "Mmm, you nasty little girl," he purred, his body still shuddering from time to time.

He finally came down enough to notice her sniffling into the pillow. It made him grin. "Aww, what's the matter, hmm?" he teased her, licking sweat off her spine. "Was Daddy's cock too big for that little arse?"

"Mm-hmm."

He groaned and gave her another shallow thrust. He was, miraculously, still rock hard. That hadn't happened in years. Red, on the other hand, appeared to be slowly dozing off.

He eased himself out and off of her and parted her arse cheeks again, watching in delight as his thick spunk dribbled out of her stretched hole.

Then he glanced at the clock. It had been almost two hours since he'd dosed her. Sighing, he got up off the bed and dug around in his bedside table drawer for a cigar. He bit the end off and spat it at her, but she didn't move. He lit it and padded into his kitchen in nothing but his open shirt and his black socks, his semen drying on his cock in messy flakes. He'd get her to take care of that for him shortly.

He leaned against the counter for a while and smoked, ashing in the sink. When he'd had his fill of the cigar, he stubbed it out in a dirty plate. Then he poured a glass of water and sprinkled a few more drops of potion into it.

By the time he made his way back to the bedroom, she was stirring. The glassy look had left her eyes, but her brow was furrowed in confusion. 

She tugged at the bonds. "Where… where am I?"

Cormac sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, pushing her matted hair out of her face. He had to move quickly. Her senses would return any minute now. "You don't remember asking to come back to my place, sweetheart?" 

She looked embarrassed. "No. I… I don't remember…"

"Ah, must be all the whisky you had earlier. Well, we were having some fun back here, and you said you were thirsty," he told her with a gentle smile. "Asked me to go get you some water."

"I _am_ thirsty."

"Of course you are. Here," he said, tilting the glass to her lips. "Drink."


End file.
